An in-depth, and let's face it scary, look at how I think and observe the world. I've often been called weird. But what is normal, really? Maybe I'm normal, and all of you are weird.
Friday, September 21, 2007
The Smurf Seat
My Mom used to have this truck called "The Mama Smurf." It was an old blue Bronco, and it had a super, spring-loaded back seat. On our way to school in the mornings we would travel down this very bumpy road. After hitting the first bump, my brother and I would start bouncing on the seat. It was pretty fun. Then momentum would start taking over. With each successive bump we would bounce higher and higher. By the time we got to the end of the street my brother had bounced so high that he actually hit his head on the ceiling of the truck! I would calmly tap my Mom on the shoulder and say something like, "Mom, K. is unconscious again."
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